The Nightingale

When grass grows green, and fresh leaves spring,And flowers are budding on the plain,When nightingales so sweetly sing,And through the greenwood swells the strain,Then joy I in the song and in the flower,Joy in myself, but in my lady more;All objects round my spirit turns to joy,But most from her my rapture rises high.

When I Behold The Lark

When I behold the lark upspringTo meet the bright sun joyfully,How he forgets to poise his wingIn his gay spirit's revelry,Alas! that mournful thoughts should springE'en from that happy songster's glee!Strange, that such gladdening sight should bringNot joy, but pining care to me!

I thought my heart had known the wholeOf love, but small its knowledge proved.For still the more my longing soulLoves on, itself the while unloved:She stole my heart, myself she stole,And all I prized from me removed;She left me but the fierce control Of vain desires for her I loved.

When Nightingales Their Lulling Song

When nightingales their lulling songFor me have breathed the whole night long,Thus soothed, I sleep; - yet, when awake,Again will joy my heart forsake,Pensive in love, in sorrow pining All other fellowship declining:Not such was once my blest employ,When all my heart, my song, was joy.

And none who knew that joy, but wellCould tell how bright, unspeakable,How far above all common bliss,Was then my heart's pure happiness;How lightly on my fancy ranged,Gay tale and pleasant jest exchanged,Dreaming such joy must ever beIn love like that I bore for thee.

Can vei la lauzeta

When I see the lark joyfully moving its wings against the sun's rays, and falling because of the sweetness that enters its heart, ah! a great envy comes upon me of all those who I see happy. I am astonished that my heart does not melt with desire.Alas! I thought I knew so much about love, and I know so little, because I cannot stop loving the one from whom I will never obtain anything. She has taken my heart, myself, herself, and the whole world, and has left me with nothing but yearning and a languishing heart.

I no longer have power over myself, and am no longer my own person, from the moment when she lets me look into her eyes, that mirror that pleases me so. Mirror, since I am mirrored in you, my sighs have caused my death, for I am lost just as Narcissus lost himself in the fountain.

I despair of women; never more shall I trust them. As once I exalted them, now shall I cast them down. Since I see that not one of them is for me against she who destroys and confounds me, I doubt and mistrust them all, since I well know they are all the same.

And in this I see that my lady is very much a woman, and that is why I criticize her. For she does not want that which she should want, and that which she is forbidden, she does. I am fallen very low, and I have acted like the fool on the bridge. And I don't know why this has happened to me, unless it's because I tried to mount too high.

Since nothing works any more with my lady - neither prayers nor pity nor my rights concerning her; and since it no longer pleases her that I love her, I will never more say it to her. And so I take my leave and go away from her. She has killed me, and I respond to her with death. And I leave, since she doesn't retain me, I the unhappy one, into exile, I know not where